


Periodically Elementary

by shutterbug_12 (shutterbug)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Friendship, Gen, Interior Decorating, Periodic Table of Elements, Roommates, Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-21
Updated: 2012-06-21
Packaged: 2017-11-08 05:33:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/439700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutterbug/pseuds/shutterbug_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock redecorates. John objects. At first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Periodically Elementary

Weary from a full day of flu-stricken patients, John noticed the addition to the flat only after he plodded out of the kitchen with his dinner in hand.  He stopped short of his chair, abandoning his sandwich on the table, and wandered over to the poster taped to the wall.  He pointed, half-turned toward Sherlock.  "Is this it?"

From his armchair, Sherlock raised only his eyes in John's direction, barely a flicker of attention before he resumed his perusal of one of John's medical journals. Interested in a new study regarding the effects of carbonated beverages on tooth decay, Sherlock had stolen it before John had known he'd received it.  

"Mmm," John hummed, letting his hand fall to his thigh with a soft  _thud_. He glanced at the poster.  Then back at Sherlock.  "Wasn't ex _act_ ly what I had in mind." 

"You asked me to decorate." 

"I asked for  _art_.  To balance out all of your morbid skulls."  John gestured to the skull on the mantle, the two dimensional version on the wall.  His volume rose with his frustration. "A nice Van Gogh! Monet! Bridges! Lily pads!" 

"That isn't art," Sherlock said, his voice dismissive, uninterested. Bored. 

"And this is? The periodic table of elements?"

"Really, John, what could be more creative than the elements of the world itself?" Sherlock asked with grandeur worthy of a documentary voice-over. "The foundation--the very details of the matter around us?" 

"All from the man who believes astrophysics is useless," John muttered. 

"It  _is_  useless," Sherlock hissed, standing abruptly, slapping his journal on the arm of the chair.  "And Van Gogh. Monet. It's all useless!"

"Some people appreciate it! It's inspiring! It's calming!"

Sherlock crossed the room in three hard, heavy steps.  "So is this!" he shouted, his knuckles locked as he jabbed the semi-glossy finish with his fingertips.  "So is  _this_!"

John stared at Sherlock, into wide eyes that seemed to ask:  _Can't you see?  Don't you_  know  _by now?_   John felt his shoulders drop.  Yes, he knew.  He saw.  

Frustration lingered, hot and thorny in his chest, and he worked to dissipate it.  _He needs this. Sherlock needs this._   With his eyes still fixed on Sherlock's face, John blinked, then shouldered Sherlock out of the way, reaching for the poster.  

Sherlock straightened up, squaring his shoulders, eyeing John with suspicion. "What are you doing?"

He carefully peeled away the tape, corner by corner.  "I'm taking this down." 

"Why?"

In John's hand, the poster curled.  Its bottom edge bobbed just above the floor as he swiveled to face Sherlock.  "Because if I have to look at this poster every day, it's going in a damn frame," John said between gritted teeth.  

He stalked toward the door, rolling up the poster before he could absorb Sherlock's expression--a sort of bewilderment, John guessed.  The look Sherlock wore when he unexpectedly faced the curious habits of the average person.  

Tucking the poster under his arm, John started down the stairs.  "Could have been worse."


End file.
